


Daisy Dursley

by Catrowline



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dudley Loves His Family, F/M, I changed Albus Severus' name to Remus Albus, because I decided of it, because you know why, he would do anything for them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:53:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23331199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catrowline/pseuds/Catrowline
Summary: The day Daisy Dursley makes her stuffed animals fly around her room at the young age of three is the day that Dudley freaks out. He needs to be a good father. He needs to be supportive. The only one who can help him do that?His cousin, Harry Potter. Except they haven't seen each other, let alone spoken, in over a decade. Ever since Harry saved Dudley and his parents' lives by sending them away.Also known as the story of how a stuffed unicorn repeatedly hitting the ceiling mended the relationship between two cousins who should have grown up like brothers.
Relationships: Dudley Dursley/Original Female Character, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger
Comments: 13
Kudos: 74





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ArchduchessofBooks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArchduchessofBooks/gifts).



> Gift to my bestest of all friends, ArchduchessofBooks. You truly are the absolute most wonderful human in the universe and I am so glad to call you my friend.   
> Seriously. You're awesome and I love you.

Ania was an amazing woman. Intelligent, beautiful, kind, the whole thing. Which was why Dudley could hardly comprehend the answer she’d given to his question.

“Dudley, are you alright?” she asked, her soft voice reaching his ears.  _ She said... _

“Yes. Yes, I’m more than alright!” He leapt off of the ground where he’d been kneeling, picked her off the floor, twirling her around, clutching the small, now empty box in his hand.

“SHE SAID YES!” He yelled at the crowd gathered around them at the mall.

Everyone cheered.

Dudley creaked open the door to Daisy’s nursery, grinning as he expected to see his daughter hurling her stuffies at the wall, but stopping short as he took in  _ exactly  _ what the three-year-old was actually doing.

The aforementioned stuffed animals were hovering in mid-air, occasionally being pelted at the ceiling and falling to the floor with a thud before rising up again.

Dudley was suddenly grateful for Harry’s letter a few years back, giving him his new address in the centre of London and his landline number. Because apparently wizards had landlines now.

But Dudley had never replied to the letter, maybe because he had little confidence in his handwriting but also because, well, what did you say to the man you bullied his entire childhood and then saved you from the man who’d killed his parents by sending you away, then proceeded to save the world from said murderer? It was too hard to think about. So Dudley kept putting it off until it would have just been plain awkward to answer Harry’s letter.

Something he regretted now, because he needed his cousin’s help.

Which is why he now found himself in the middle of London, or, as he remembered someone a long time ago saying,  _ Muggle  _ London. Whatever that was. 

He stared at Harry’s flat, feeling self conscious about the weight he hadn’t managed to lose, about his clothes, his hair, everything.

His lack of magic.

He stared at the doorbell, so small, so innocent, pristine white on the gray stone wall. Dudley had to do this; he  _ had  _ to, for Daisy, so that he wouldn’t be to her what his parents had been to Harry. He had to do better, he had to be better. Ania had freaked out when she had seen what Daisy could do; but when he had sat her down, given her a nice, soothing cup of tea and explained everything to her, she had eventually calmed down enough to understand this incredible being that was their daughter.

So he was here. In front of a quaint stone house. Must be cold in the winter, he thought idly.

Anything to put it off. Dudley Dursley, master of procrastination, at your service… but only starting tomorrow.

He looked up at the first floor, absent-mindedly peeking into the kitchen window. Which was where he was.

Harry. He was cleaning dishes, by the looks of it, by magic, waving his wand this way and that, unaware of the eyes staring at him from outside. Something caught Harry’s attention, and he bent down, out of Dudley’s view, and then reappearing, a small boy with jet black hair on his hip. Spitting image of his father, from the messy hair falling in his eyes to the goofy grin Harry used to have as a child.

Dudley rang the bell. 


	2. Chapter 2

Harry’s head snapped to the window, his happy expression shifting immediately into one of determination, of something Dudley couldn’t quite put his finger on. 

His brow furrowed; he didn’t recognise Dudley. A pang of sorrow squeezed Dudley’s heart. Had it really been so long since they last saw each other that Harry wouldn’t recognise his own cousin? 

Obviously, it had to be, as they were both now grown men with children of their own, and the last time they’d seen each other, they were barely adults.

Harry reached out to the window, opening it slowly to call out into the street.

“Can I help you?” he said slowly, cautiously.

“Harry, it’s me. Dudley. Your cousin,” he added in an afterthought, in case Harry had forgotten him altogether. He wouldn’t blame him for it, either, if he had.

Harry gasped, bringing the hand that wasn’t holding his son to his face. “Dudley? Is it really you?”

Dudley nodded. “I, uh… I lost some weight since you last saw me, Harry. That day, in Privet Drive… Thank you, Harry.”

Harry smiled softly. “Of course, Dudley. Would you like to come in, meet my wife and children?”

Dudley nodded mutely. Children. Plural. Harry was a family man now, how could Dudley bother him after so many years?

A few minutes passed and Harry’s front door opened, a young woman with ginger hair smiling at him. “You must be Dudley,” she said. “My brothers told me about you.”

She motioned for him to enter, and he obeyed.

“Your… brothers?”

“Yes, Fred and George. They pranked you once? With a Ton-Tongue Toffee, if I remember correctly.”

Oh. The twins that had made his tongue reach the floor of his parents’ old house. Their father had stayed to fix it, something he’d always be grateful for.

“You’re related to them?”

“Yes, their younger sister. Ginny Weasley-Potter, it’s nice to meet you, Dudley.”

“And you, Ginny. Are your brothers well?”

He’d forgiven them after a few years. Looking back, the whole thing was actually rather funny.

“George is, he and my other brother Ron are running the joke shop he’d opened with Fred a few years before the Battle.”

Harry appeared at the top of the stairs. “Ginny, don’t keep him downstairs where it’s cold! Dudley, won’t you come upstairs? James and Remus would love to meet their cousin.”

Ginny grinned. “Go on. Harry hates the cold. It’s part of why he asked me to open the door; the heater broke and my father insisted he fix it but of course, he just made it worse.”

Dudley sensed there was a story there, but was too eager to see his cousin for the first time in a decade. Strange, the things you don’t notice you missed until they’re right in front of you once more.

He climbed the stairs silently, smiling at the pictures on the wall. When they moved, he wasn’t even surprised. Once, he’d gone into Harry’s room - his old second room - and found an old photo album under the bed. Best not to say how he’d gotten to searching under the bed, though. He had flipped through it, stopping short as he noticed the people in the photographs moved. Moved. Like in a movie. It was astonishing. 

Especially when he’d gotten to the photo of Harry’s parents. He’d recognised them as such because the man looked so much like Harry - or Harry looked so much like the man. Same thing. And the woman? Well, her eyes. They were the most vibrant green he’d ever seen - the same as Harry’s eyes. And he recognised her from pictures on his mother’s nightstand, and understood that she was Lily Potter, née Evans. 

And the same picture now hung in Harry’s staircase, and they waved at him, smiling warmly as they watched him go. 

“Dudley, it is good to see you,” said Harry when Dudley slowly reached the top of the stairs. 

“You too, Harry. But… This isn’t exactly a social call. I need your help.”

Harry’s eyes immediately hardened. “What happened?”

Dudley chuckled, trying to seem carefree but internally worried of what had made Harry so fast to jump to the worst conclusions.

“Nothing bad, Harry, on the contrary. It’s, uh, it’s my daughter. Daisy.” 

At the mention of his daughter, Dudley smiled out of habit. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. Inside, he pulled out a photo of him and Ania holding Daisy on her third birthday.

“That’s her, right there. And that’s my fiancée, Ania.”

“They’re beautiful, Dudley,” said Ginny warmly. 

“What happened with Daisy, Dudley?”

“Well… She made her stuffed unicorn hit the ceiling, Harry. Without touching it.”

Harry let out a small ‘ _ oh _ ’ of understanding. 

“And… What do I do, Harry? How can I be a good father to her? Help her, support her? Enroll her into that school you went to? Pig...farts?”

Harry laughed. “Hogwarts. And don’t worry about it, Dudley, if she can do magic, she is already enrolled at Hogwarts.”

Dudley sighed in relief. “Oh, thank goodness.”

“As for supporting her, well, I’d say you’re doing a brilliant job already, Dudley,” added Ginny lightly. “Keep asking yourself that question the rest of your life and you’ll be fine.”

“Now, meet my kids,” said Harry. “James! Remus!” he called out, and waited a second until the three adults heard a soft pitter patter from down the hall.

“What’s up, Dad?” said the eldest, holding his brother’s hand. 

“James, this is my cousin Dudley, the one I told you about?”

“Uncle Dudley!”

The small boy ran to him, wrapping his little arms around his leg. His brother, who couldn’t be older than Daisy, followed him on his chubby legs, hugging Dudley’s other leg.

“Un’l Du’ley!”

Dudley nearly cried.

“Harry… I…”

“I know… Big D.”

Dudley smiled. They were going to be alright.


	3. Chapter 3

Ginny has surreptitiously taken the boys into their rooms in order to give their father the time he needs with his cousin.

Harry and Dudley sit on Harry’s couch, both holding a beer that neither of them have actually opened. 

“So. You don’t live in a, uh, wizard town?” begins Dudley, staring at the glass bottle.

“No. I had enough of wizards to last me a lifetime. We see our family and friends every weekend though, we Apparate to the Burrow and hang out with them, but we don’t stay. Well, I don’t, at least,” says Harry slowly. “I love them to death, but… It’s a bit too much.”

“What do you do for a living? I mean, to afford such a house in the centre of London, you have to have a massive paycheck,” grins Dudley, leaning back. He’s finally relaxing. Harry chuckles.

“I’m head of the Auror department at the Ministry,” he says. “It’s good, catching the people who made my childhood a living hell.”

“I’m sorry,” blurts out Dudley. He can’t help himself; he’s wanted to say those words for over a decade now. “I’m sorry for how Mum and Dad treated you. I’m sorry for how I treated you. I’m sorry your parents died in the first place; I’m sorry you had to save the world at eleven. I’m sorry we were never friends.”

Harry blinks, taken aback. He never expected an apology from Dudley. 

“Dudley, I… thank you. It doesn’t take it all away, it never will, but… thank you. What… brought it on?”

“Daisy. I can’t imagine her going through what you went through without wanting to kill anyone who would do something like this to her. And then I remember I did it to you; and I want to punch my younger self repeatedly in the face to knock some sense into him. Me.”

Harry looks at Dudley, staring him in the eye. “It’s odd, isn’t it, what such small beings can teach you.”

“So, so odd. But I’m grateful for it. And, Harry, I want to ask something of you.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t want this-” he motions to himself and Harry in one awkward, short nod - “to be a one-time thing. I want Daisy and Ania to know you. I want Daisy to know her cousins. I want us to be family.”

Harry doesn’t answer for a while. Dudley wonders if he’s going to refuse, kick him out - he wouldn’t blame him if he did.

Harry takes a deep breath, a small smile growing on his thin lips. “Better than never, eh?” he says, reaching over to lightly punch Dudley on the shoulder. Dudley grins until he notices a thin white scar on Harry’s fist; it looks like writing. 

“What the…” without thinking, he grabs Harry’s hand to read the words etched onto his fist.

_ I must not tell lies _ .

“What is that?” he asks bluntly. Harry grimaces.

“A cow of a woman who would be Headmistress. She and the entire Wizarding government, even most of the Wizarding World, thought I was telling lies when I was fifteen, when I was telling them that Voldemort was back.” He takes a deep breath.

“Remember when you would taunt me about talking about a certain Cedric, Dudley?”

Dudley nods. 

“He was a classmate of mine. I’ll tell you about the school later; but basically Hogwarts is divided into four Houses: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Cedric was a Hufflepuff; I was a Gryffindor. In our fourth year, we were selected to compete against each other, in the Triwizard Tournament, and two other students from different Wizarding schools-”

“There are others?” said Dudley, accidentally cutting Harry off; the latter nodded.

“Three. But only two of them competed with us in the Tournament: Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, respectively from Southern Europe and France. Actually,” Harry chuckled, “Ginny’s eldest brother Bill married the competitor from France. But that’s another story. So Cedric and I were pitted against each other; but people thought I had cheated my way into the Tournament. You see, you could only enter the competition if you were seventeen or older; I was fourteen. I didn’t cheat, though. One of Voldemort’s followers, posing as a teacher, entered me. So Cedric and I helped each other out along the way, ending up together at the end of the line. We decided to take the trophy together, so that even if we would be in a tie, Hogwarts would ultimately be the winner. But the trophy didn’t take us back to the school. It took us to a graveyard, and Cedric was killed. Voldemort told his henchman, the man who essentially killed my parents, to  _ kill the spare. _ ”

Harry squeezes his beer bottle so hard that it shatters. Nothing to do with magic or anything; it was sheer strength and Dudley has never been more frightened of his cousin in his life.

“Cedric died that night, Dudley. And it was all Voldemort's fault.” He pulls out his wand, waving it this way and that to clean the mess up quickly. He then pushes his jumper sleeve up, revealing a long scar down his forearm. 

“The man who betrayed my parents, Peter Pettigrew, then slashed my arm for my blood in order to bring Voldemort back to his full strength. Long story short, it worked.”

He pushes his sleeve back down; Dudley says nothing. There is nothing he could say. He taunted his cousin about a boy he’d seen die; Dudley has never been so ashamed of himself.

“And when I got back to Hogwarts, to the ‘normal world’, I told everyone that he was back. Voldemort was back, and we needed to do something about it. But of course, no one except my friends and a precious few people - most of whom have been long dead - believed me. And this wretch of a woman, Dolores Umbridge, comes to Hogwarts as a teacher appointed by the Minister of Magic and essentially tried to take over the school, and every time I confronted her and told the truth, she punished me by making me write lines with a cursed quill that scarred me for life.”

He looks at Dudley, a dangerous look in his green eyes. “But what’s another scar, right?” he says, reaching up to itch at his forehead.

“I’m sorry, Harry. For Cedric. For taunting you about him. I never should’ve.”

“No, you shouldn’t have. But you didn’t know. It’s not like I told you what happened; it’s not like you could’ve known, Dudley. You did what you knew, what you were used to doing.”

“Still. I’m sorry. I’m not asking for forgiveness; neither of us are there yet. But I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.”

“Tell me now, Harry. Tell me what happened at Hogwarts all those years.”

“Another time, Dud, if you don’t mind. It’s all a bit much.”

Dudley smiles at the shortened version of his name. “Of course. Take your time, mate. We have all the time in the world now, don’t we?”

Harry returns his grin. “Yeah, we do. Would you stay for dinner?”

Dudley starts, checking the watch Ania got him for their anniversary. “I would love to, but I need to get back to Ania and Daisy. Another time?”

“Sure thing. How about tomorrow evening? You can bring Ania and Daisy; it would be a family dinner.”

“But… tomorrow’s a Saturday. Didn’t you say you spent weekends with Ginny’s family?”

“We do, which is why it’s high time my family - my extended family - joined us. What do you say?”

“How do we get there?”

“Exceptionally, we’ll drive. We’ll meet Hermione there; she’ll get us a special dispensation to authorize you to have your fireplace connected to the Floo Network. You have a  _ real  _ fireplace, right?”

Dudley grins. “Yeah. Don’t want what happened all that time ago to happen again, and it’s a Godsend in the winter,” he says. “How can this… Hermione help us?”

“Oh, didn’t I mention? Hermione, my sister-in-law, my best friend who married my  _ other  _ best friend, Ginny’s brother Ron, is Minister of Magic!”

“No way.”

“Oh, yeah. Brightest witch of her age, that one. And an amazing woman; you’d like her. I think.”

“At this point, Harry, anyone who’s your friend and helped you through saving the world is someone I like,” chuckles Dudley, standing up slowly.

Harry laughs. “Thanks, Dud. I’ll see you tomorrow, at, say, around ten in the morning? Mrs. Weasley expects us for lunch.”

“We won’t impose?”

“No, she always makes far too much to eat,” says Ginny, leaning through the kitchen door. “Merlin knows she thinks we all eat as much as Ron.”

“In that case, we’ll be there. Thanks, Harry,” he says, setting down his beer on the side table and extending his hand to the dark-haired man. Harry smiles, ignores his hand and reaches out for a hug.

“I know we’re far from fine yet, but I’m glad we’re taking small steps toward it. Thanks for giving me that shot.”

“Of course, Dudley. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”


	4. Chapter 4

That evening, Dudley comes home with a permanent smile on his face. Ania’s waiting for him, feeding Daisy at their small kitchen table.

“So,” she asks gently, “I take it your conversation with your cousin went well?”

Dudley grins, pecking her on the cheek. “Better than well. He invited us to his family’s lunch tomorrow at his wife’s childhood home; I said we’d go. Is that alright?”

Ania hugs him tightly. “It’s perfect. We’re not imposing, are we?”

“Apparently not; according to Ginny, Harry’s wife, her mother makes enough food for three large armies.”

“Then that’ll be enough for you, at least, wouldn’t it?” she grins cheekily. Dudley guffaws.

“Right, because you don’t eat nearly as much as I do, right?”

The next day, the three of them are standing in front of Harry’s house, waiting for the family of four to come down and show them the way to the Weasley’s house.

Ginny comes out first, and she and Ania are fast friends. Almost immediately, James takes Daisy under his wing and it’s like they’ve known each other their entire short lives.

Harry comes out next with Remus, and the two families climb into their respective cars and they’re off, driving through the countryside for a few hours until they reach a strange house that should not stay upright, but Dudley would bet his right hand that it does because _magic_.

Dudley pulls up behind Harry’s car, shutting it off and climbing out. “That… is the strangest house I’ve ever seen.”

“I think it’s beautiful,” says Ania.

“It was implied.”

Ginny leads them to the back of the house, where _so many gingers_ are gathered. A few blond heads here and there, a few brunettes as well but the dominating color is bright red. So red. 

An older woman walks over to them, smiling at Harry and Ginny. 

“Harry! Ginny! So glad you’re here! And this must be Dudley, Ania and Daisy! Welcome!”

“Thank you, ma’am,” says Dudley politely. “Thank you for having us, we hope we’re not imposing.”

“Stop that, of course you’re not. And call me Molly, dear.”

Dudley smiles. He likes this woman. 

He’s about to follow her and the whole group down to the larger gathering when Harry holds him back.

“I forgot to ask, Dud… How are your parents?”

“They’re… fine. Haven’t really spoken to them in a while. Since I told Dad I wasn’t going to take over the company, actually.”

“You… You didn’t?”

“Nah. Didn’t want to be like him, even slightly. I have my own firm, actually. It’s called _Dudley Reparations_. We fix ACs, vents, heaters, boilers… the works.”

“That’s amazing, Dudley! I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, Harry,” grins Dudley. “Didn’t you say your heater broke? I could have a look at it, if you’d like.”

“Really? That’d be wonderful. Thanks, mate.”

“Sure.”

“Maybe don’t tell Arthur though, he’ll just bombard you with questions. Odd ones. You know what he asked me the first time we met?”

Dudley shook his head.

“He asked me, and I quote, what the function of a rubber duck is. I’m not even joking.”

“Wow. That… wow.”

They look at each other, and all attempts of staying serious are lost. But Harry isn’t done.

“And- and-” he pants between laughs. “You know what he calls electricity?”

“ _Tell me_ ,” wheezes Dudley.

“ _Eckeltrissity_!”


	5. Chapter 5

The Weasley family could be qualified as a clan, there are so many of them. 

There’s the eldest son, Bill, who married a French woman, Fleur, and had two children and a third on the way. He works for the Wizarding bank, she’s a stay-at-home mother.

There’s the next one, Charlie, who’s still a bachelor, no matter how hard his mother tries to get him to meet ‘nice women’. He breeds  _ dragons  _ of all beasts. Daisy pelts him with questions to which he answers happily.

The next one, Percy, seems like he’s a prat, but in a good way. Kind of a stuck-up man, but with a good heart. He married a woman named Penelope, and they both work for the Ministry. 

Then there’s George. The only one Dudley met before. He learns not to mention George’s twin Fred. Apparently, he was killed during a Battle. When the wizards and witches mention it, Dudley can feel the capital B in their voice. He makes a mental note to ask Harry about it someday. George married a lovely, strong-looking woman, Angelina, whom everyone calls Angie; she’s pregnant, and it’s a boy. When he’s born, he’ll be named after his father’s twin. As it should be. He works at a joke shop, and even if Harry hadn’t told him before him, Dudley wouldn’t have been surprised to hear it.

Then there’s Ron, and Dudley has a fleeting memory of a young boy screaming into the phone when they were younger, and he understands that this man right there, with the long thin nose and the strange scars on his arms would have died for Harry. And Dudley decides that he’ll give this man free repairs for the rest of his life. Ron married Hermione, a beautiful woman with frizzy dark brown hair, a dazzling smile and a look that could kill someone if they dared to get in her way. He can tell she’s ruthless and not opposed to violence. He makes another mental note, this time never to get on Hermione Granger-Weasley’s bad side. Ever.

And last but not least, Ginny. Ginny whom Dudley already met. Ginny who seems to be the only person capable of keeping Harry together, from giving into a darkness that Dudley only caught a glimpse of when he told him about Cedric. Ginny is a professional Quidditch player, a game played with brooms, balls that want your death and high hoops. Dudley can’t really understand the game but it looks like it’s some sort of religion to them, just like soccer is to him; so he asks question after question, not unlike his daughter did to Charlie, and Ginny answers them eagerly with a fervor that he can only admire.

And then, the parents. Arthur and Molly Weasley, two people who are just pure good. There is nothing else to them; they are fundamentally, exclusively good. And Dudley swears that he will contribute to never let anything happen to them as long as he draws breath. 

Arthur still works, even at - and this is a guess - about seventy years old. He works at the Ministry as well,  in the  [ Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office ](https://harrypotter.fandom.com/wiki/Misuse_of_Muggle_Artefacts_Office) . And apparently, he adores his job, and anything to do with Muggles, which Dudley understands to be people like him - people without magic. And he thanks Arthur for what he does, and for fixing his tongue all those years ago; and tells him it’s one of his favourite memories now. And Arthur flushes, stammers, then just hugs Dudley. 

Molly, like her husband, hugs Dudley tightly. She says that she’s proud of him for being a better father than his own was, she tells him that Daisy is lucky, oh, so lucky to have Dudley. And Dudley can’t answer, just smiles sheepishly, and nods. Molly returns his smile, a twinkle in her eye that makes him feel warm, accepted. It makes him feel like family. If only his mother was here; he knows that she would love Molly Weasley if it wasn’t for his father. So he swears to himself that in a few days, maybe a few weeks, he’ll give his mother a call, and if it’s alright with the Weasleys and, more importantly, Harry, he’ll invite her to the gathering the following weekend. She should see what kind of people wizards are.

She should see for herself what her sister’s people are. What her granddaughter’s people are.

Molly calls out for everyone to come sit at the magically enlarged dining table - Dudley witnessed it firsthand - for lunch. He sits between Harry and Ania, while Daisy sits at the children’s table with her cousins. There’s an older boy with them, with bright blue hair, and Dudley wonders why a young boy would have that sort of hair. He leans over to Harry to ask him about it. 

“He’s something called a Metamorphmagus,” says Harry. “That’s a wizard or witch who can change their physical appearance at will. He gets it from his mother. She and her husband, Teddy’s father, died during the Battle. They made me godfather. I named Remus after Ted’s dad; he was the best teacher I’ve ever had, save for Professor McGonagall of course,” he chuckles. “Remus Lupin was an amazing man.”

“One day, you’ll tell me about the Battle?”

“I will. Not today though.”

The whole table is bustling with laughter and chatting, and George comes in from the kitchen, levitating food alongside his mother. He trips, and the food goes flying down the table, and the bread knife plants itself inches from where Bill’s hand used to be. 

“You didn’t manage to chop Sirius’ hand off, so now you aim for mine?” asks Bill with a large smile. George grins. 

“Next best thing, right?”

Dudley frowns at the name. “Sirius?”

“My godfather. He died in my fifth year. He was an incredible man; instead of hexing an enemy who was threatening me, you know what he did?” says Harry, smiling sadly.

“What?” asks Ania. 

“He said ‘ _ stay away from my godson _ ’ and punched him square in the jaw!”

James comes running up behind Dudley. “I know how to punch too!” and aims a jab for Dudley’s shoulder. Reflexively, Dudley parries and pokes the kid in the stomach. He feels people looking at him and shrugs.

“I used to box professionally until I got tired of hitting people for no reason and moved onto teaching people how to defend themselves. I could teach you, if you wanted?” he offers. Charlie leans toward him. 

“Show me what you got!”

Both men stand up, squaring off against each other. “Ready?”

“When you are,” answers Dudley, getting down into a crouch. 

Charlie lunges towards Dudley, who agilely moves out of the way. Charlie jabs a fist at Dudley, who knocks it out of the way, catches him in the sternum and pushes him to the ground. 

Everyone claps, cheering for Dudley. He helps Charlie up.

“No hard feelings?”

“Of course not, mate! You need to teach me your ways!”

“With pleasure. It can always be useful. Imagine your wand isn’t in the vicinity; you still need to defend yourself.”


	6. Chapter 6

The rest of the lunch goes wonderfully, the Weasleys integrating the Dursleys like they’ve always been friends. Like they’ve always been family. Dudley tells George that he would like a few Ton-Tongue Toffees to send his father as a prank; George agrees wholeheartedly. Free of charge, too, he says. Hermione splutters. Ton-Tongue Toffees are apparently some of the Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes best selling products, it would be a waste to give some away for free. Ron shushes her. It’s for a good cause, he says with a maniacal grin.

The clan finishes eating; Mrs Weasley goes into the kitchen to clean, followed by Ron and Angelina. Ania offers to help; the trio accepts gladly. Dudley follows; he wants to assist in any way possible.

Angelina turns to Ania. 

“So, how did you and Dudley meet?” she asks, smiling. 

Dudley grins. Now this is a story he loves to tell. 

“When I opened my business,  _ Dudley Reparations _ , I had no clue what to do about the paperwork unless it was to hire people. So I hired a successful accountant to help, and it turned out to be Ania. She explained the logistics of every contract and every piece of paper at least seven times before I understood any of it, and never lost patience. I’m good with my hands, but she’s the brains of the operations.”

“He sells himself short, but in truth he’s smart. He just loathes paperwork,” clarifies Ania with a soft smile directed at her fiancé. Dudley shrugs. He disagrees; he’s not selling himself short, he’s just saying it like it is. He’s not saying he isn’t smart; he’s just saying he isn’t book smart. And he’s learnt to deal with it; it’s isn’t a bad thing, and he’s accepted it. Harry smiles. Somehow, Dudley knows that he understands what he’s trying to say.

“So the last day she was supposed to work for me, I convinced myself to ask her out on a date that same night; it was a fail-safe plan, right? If she said yes, then all would be well. If not, I wouldn’t have to see her again and deal with the awkwardness; but lucky for me, she agreed. Two months later, we found a flat and moved in together. A few weeks later, I proposed to her, and she said yes. Six months after that, we found out we were expecting. Best day of my life until she gave birth to Daisy!”

Everyone at the table awws simultaneously. Dudley turns bright red, matching all the red hair he was seated with. 

“Say, Dudlé, when iz ze wedding?” asks Fleur, Bill’s wife, smiling at him. Dudley glances at Ania, who squeezes his hand.

“We haven’t got a date yet, but rest assured; all of you are invited! It’ll probably be a simple event, just friends and family; we don’t think we even want it to be in a church.”

“Say, Mum,” asks Bill, turning to his mother, “Why don’t they have it here, like Fleur and I did? You’d have all the room necessary, and Hermione could officiate; she’s a registered minister in both the Muggle and Wizarding worlds,” he adds, turning to Dudley and Ania.

Molly breaks into the largest smile Dudley has ever seen. “Of course! Bill, darling, that’s such a wonderful idea! And I could do the catering, if you would let me, of course, Dudley dear!”

Dudley is taken aback at such kindness. He can’t do much but blink, until Ania saves him the trouble.

“We would love to. That would be so wonderful of you, Molly! Thank you!”

“Of course, dearie! What’s family for except to help?”

  
  


At the end of the day, Dudley can’t quite understand everything that went on, but he is sure of one thing: Harry has an amazing family, and Dudley will be eternally grateful that he’s had these people support him when he and his parents did not. 

And for some mysterious, bizarre, obscure reason, they’ve forgiven Dudley for not being family to Harry and have given him a second chance, even going as far as providing him with a wedding venue and catering. He would’ve hired Molly Weasley in any case; that roasted chicken she had made was the single best meal he had ever eaten. 

Ever. 

And he’s not even exaggerating. 

Lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t hear someone approach him in the darkening evening until he feels a gentle tap on the shoulder. He turns; it’s Harry and Hermione. 

“I talked to Hermione about connecting your house to the Floo Network; she said she can work it out tonight if you’d like,” says Harry.

Dudley smiles, nodding. “I would really appreciate it. Would you like to ride with us?” he offers, and Hermione grins back.

“I’d love to! It’ll give me time to talk with Daisy about Hogwarts, if you’d let me.”

Ania joins the small group. “That would be wonderful; although I might be a bit selfish as I really,  _ really _ want to learn more about Hogwarts myself.”

They all laugh, and then disperse after agreeing to meet up at the cars in a little while. Dudley and Ania set off in search of their daughter; they find her playing tag with the other children, led by the blue-haired boy, Teddy, who as they approach slows down and lets himself be caught by Harry’s second child, Remus. The one named after the older boy’s father, recalls Dudley. 

“Hullo,” says the boy. “Looking for Dais’?” 

Ania smiles at the boy’s nickname for their daughter. “Indeed; it’s time we start heading home, young man.”

Teddy grins. “Well last I saw her, she was chasing Hugo, I think.”

“Hugo?” asks Dudley, cocking his head to the side. Ted nods. 

“Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione’s kid.”

“We haven’t met him, I don’t think,” says Ania. Teddy shrugs in a typical teenager way. 

“He’s over there, with his sister Rose; and looks like Daisy’s with them!”

He points over to a few feet away, where sure enough, Daisy stands with two red-headed children, chatting animatedly. 

“Daisy,” calls out Dudley, “it’s time to go home!”

“Noooo, I don’t want to go home, Daddy!”

“You don’t? You don’t want to go home to your stuffies?” he asks, picking her up into his arms while Ania chats with Ron’s children. Daisy crosses her arms and huffs. 

“No.”

“You don’t want to hear about Hogwarts with Rose and Hugo’s mommy, Hermione?”

“Hermione’s coming home with us?” says Daisy, her eyes wide. 

“Yes, darling, she’s coming to fix our fireplace.”

“Why does she have to fix it? It’s not broken!”

For a three-year-old, she sure knows how to be logical and talk like an older child, muses Dudley.

“It’s not, but she’s going to do some magic to it so that they can visit easily and not use the car; and she’s going to teach us how to do the same, can you imagine?”

Daisy looks at him, mouth agape. After a moment of silence, she cries out, “What are we waiting for? Let’s go, Daddy!”


	7. Chapter 7

So Ania, Dudley and Daisy traipse off in direction of their car, only to be caught up with by George, who carries a large platter of tin-foil covered food. 

“Mum says this is for you lot,” he says, handing Ania the platter as Dudley’s hands are busy holding Daisy. It’s at that moment that Dudley notices that George _is missing an ear_. He blinks a few times, but says nothing. It wouldn’t be proper. 

Ania thanks the young man, who then turns to Dudley. “I grabbed some Ton-Tongue Toffees for you, Dudley. And with your permission, I’d like to label them ‘ _Dudley Approved’_ and mention you are the first Muggle to have next to no ties to the Wizarding World to have tried them and… liked them. Eventually.”

Dudley grins. “I would be honored. Maybe it’ll be the start of a relationship between wizards and Muggles, who knows, yeah?”

“That’s what I was thinking!” exclaims George, who then bids them goodbye and wishes them a safe trip home. 

“Daddy, what’s a Ton-Ton Toffee?” babbles Daisy.

“That’s a story for another day, dear,” answers Dudley with a large smile. They finally make it to their car, finding both Harry and Hermione waiting for them. Harry greets them first.

“I was wondering if I could tag along?” he inquires. “I’ve got a lot to tell you about the Battle, Dudley.”

Dudley nods, his face becoming more serious. “Of course. You might be a bit squished; it isn’t a very large vehicle.”

Hermione smiles. “Don’t worry. Harry and I cast a spell on it - I hope you don’t mind - to make it larger.”

Dudley frowns. “What kind of spell?”

“A spell that would make the inside of your car bigger, so we can all fit comfortably,” explains Harry, frowning at Hermione. “See, Hermione, I told you we should have waited for their permission!”

“No, it’s fine!” says Ania, giddy with joy. “It’s bigger on the inside! Like the TARDIS!”

Dudley groans. “Nooo… Not Doctor Who again, Ania, I beg you!”

Hermione’s eyes grow wide. “You watch Doctor Who, Ania?”

“Of course I do! The question is… you do too?”

“Yes, I grew up on it! My parents are Muggles, like you, and Doctor Who was like a religion to me.”

They climb into the car, Dudley strapping Daisy in her child seat and marvelling at the large space that is now his car. He can’t believe how spacious it appears now.

“How did you learn this spell?” he asks, sitting in the driver’s seat as Harry settles in the passenger one while Hermione and Ania sit on both sides of Daisy.

“Well, that’s a funny one, that is,” grins Harry. “I don’t suppose you remember when I was twelve and Vernon put bars on my window?”

Dudley grips the steering wheel as he drives away from the odd, crooked house. “I’d forgotten he’d done that. I did research, that’s clearly abuse! I can’t believe how horrid we all were to you, Harry,” he finishes quietly. Harry pats him on the shoulder.

“It’s fine. I mean, it’s not, but… it’s okay.”

Dudley gives him a sharp nod. He understands what Harry means.

“Anyway, the bars. When he put them on, it stopped me from writing to Ron. So what did he, Fred and George do? They took Arthur’s flying car, and drove up to my window and tore off the bars so I could climb through, get in, and escape!”

“...Flying car?” Ania says, bewildered.

“Oh, yeah. Flying car. And invisible at times, too. So anyway, they drive - fly - me to the Burrow, and long story short, it takes a minivan to drive most of the Weasleys plus me, the school trunks and extra pets to King’s Cross. So Arthur enlarged it; and he taught me the spell a few years later.”

“That’s bonkers,” chuckles Dudley. All the adults join in; Daisy is already fast asleep, exhausted by the day’s events. 

“So, Hermione,” says Ania with a large, inquisitive smile, “you said you’d tell us about Hogwarts?”

“Oh, right!” she exclaims, leaning towards Ania. “Well, let’s start… It was founded around 990 A.D. by four of the greatest wizards and witches of the age: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. They gave their names to the four Houses; all of us, Ron, Harry and I, ended up in Gryffindor. I was almost sent to Ravenclaw, and although the Sorting Hat sent him to Gryffindor, apparently, it nearly sent Ron to Hufflepuff; the only Weasley not to have gone to Gryffindor! I think Harry was the only one that the Sorting Hat was sure about sending to one House.”

Harry grimaces. “Actually, Hermione, I don’t remember if I’ve told you this, but I was nearly sent to Slytherin.”

Hermione gawks. “What? Really?”

“Yeah. I think it was the whole Voldemort’s soul thing.”

“Wait. _What_?” says Dudley. Once again, he feels out of his depth.

“A story for another day,” sighs Harry. 

“What are the differences between the Houses?” asks Ania.

“Well,” begins Harry, “Gryffindor is for the courageous and daring; although our short-comings are usually that we’re reckless and quick to blow a fuse. Ravenclaws are… the intellectual, creative, and wise. Oh, you should meet our good friend Luna. She is the most perfect representation of a Ravenclaw - a little far-fetched and a bit out there, but nonetheless, one of the most amazing people we know.”

Hermione takes over. “Then there’s Slytherin: for the cunning and ambitious. Most ‘bad’ wizards came from there; Voldemort, Draco Malfoy, Snape - even though eventually he helped us fight the war, he still was an utter arse, if you’ll allow the language.”

“What did he do?” asks Dudley, his eyes trained on the dark road, his high beams on.

“Well, he bullied anyone who wasn’t a Slytherin. He nearly killed our friend Neville’s toad, and blatantly ignored Hermione when Malfoy cursed her teeth to grow so much they nearly hit the floor; all in front of him,” says Harry, a look of disgust on his face.”But, to his credit, he was one of Voldemort’s most trusted advisors, all the while actually being loyal to Dumbledore, our Headmaster. We thought he was evil when he killed him, but it was all part of Dumbledore’s master plan. A whole thing,” finishes Harry, leaning back in his seat. 

“Yes, he was a very convincing double agent,” agrees Hermione. “Even if accidentally he did cut off George’s ear.”

“He _what_?” exclaims Dudley. “How do you accidentally cut off someone’s ear?”

Harry sighs out a huff. “It was during a chase. He was trying to cut off the hand of someone who was about to kill George; but he aimed badly and instead, cut off George’s ear. We explained it all to George, and he doesn’t really mind anymore. We’ve forgiven the greasy git for that.”

“So… he’s a bad guy, but… not really?” says Ania, trying to comprehend. 

“Something like that. He was a brave man; he gave his life so we could win, but really, he was obsessed with my mum. Actually, Aunt Petunia met him when they were children.”

“You’re joking,” says Dudley incredulously. “Mum knew this bloke?”

“Yeah, although they didn’t like each other one bit; he dropped a tree branch on her once.”

“...I’m not even going to ask.”

Ania diverts the conversation. “Didn’t you say there were four Houses? You only mentioned three.”

“Oh, right, yes. The last one is Hufflepuff,” says Harry. “Remember Cedric, Dud?”

“Yeah, the kid you won the Tournament with, yeah?”

“Exactly. He was in Hufflepuff. They’re the hardworkers, the loyal, moral ones. Real good lot. Cedric was the best of them, with Tonks.”

“Tonks?” asks Ania.

“Teddy’s mum. She married our old Professor, Remus Lupin, and they had a kid, Teddy, remember?”

“Right, you told me at lunch. She was a… meta… something,” says Dudley lamely.

“Metamorphmagus,” clarifies Hermione. “The only one I’ve met so far, and an incredible woman. Her husband was too.”

“He was the best teacher I’ve ever had,” says Harry fondly. “Kind, fair, and honestly, hilarious sometimes.”

“And, to his credit,” grins Hermione, “he wasn’t that bad looking either.”

The whole car bursts into laughter as Harry turns to Hermione with a disgusted and surprised expression on his face. 

“Hermione!”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am on fire! Another chapter in the same week. Wow, I really hope the inspiration keeps up. I hope you guys still like the story! I'm trying to pace myself, as I've been told that I sometimes rush things on in stories, so it might be a little slower than my other works. I hope. That's what I'm aiming for, at this point xD  
> Anyway... enjoy! (I hope.)

They pull up in front of Dudley’s flat, parking the car in the lot across from the building. Ania carried a sleeping Daisy while Harry carried Mrs. Weasley’s leftovers, allowing Dudley to unlock all the doors on the way to their home sweet home.

Once there, they settle Daisy in her bed, reconvening in the living room. Dudley holds Harry back, standing in the hallway. Dudley takes a deep breath. The question he’s about to ask Harry could have both a positive influence or their mending relationship, or it could have a very negative one. 

“Harry, I was wondering…”

Harry looks at him expectantly as Dudley trails off, trying to muster up the courage to ask his question.

“Well, for my wedding, you see… I still haven’t gotten a best man.”

Harry blinks. Is it going where he thinks it’s going? Merlin’s beard, he thinks it might.

“And well, I don’t really have any close friends. None from childhood; they’re all wankers, the lot of them,” he groans at the memory of the company he kept as a child and then as a teenager. “I don’t have all that many friends nowadays either because I mostly keep to myself as I have a company to run, and anyway, now that, uh, we’ve started… becoming family, I was hoping, if maybe, you would, uh, consider… being my best man for my wedding?” Dudley finishes in a rush, and there’s a silence between them, the only sound coming from the living room where Ania and Hermione chat.

Harry takes a deep breath. “Dudley, I’m… I’m honored, really. I… would love to, but… would your parents be there? If they are, it would be better if I took a back seat, because they wouldn’t like it if-”

“To hell with my parents, Harry,” says Dudley brusquely, shoving his hands in his pockets. “They have no say in my wedding, and it’s time they learnt that. Yes, they’ll be there - at least Mum will, I don’t know about Dad, but I don’t give a rat’s arse what they think. Pardon my language.”

Harry grins, clapping Dudley on the shoulder. “In that case, Dudley, I’d love to be your best man. Who do you want at your bachelor party? Because don’t think for a moment that I won’t throw your stag party.”

Dudley chuckles. “As I said, I don’t have many friends, so… the Weasley men, I suppose? And that includes Arthur. I have one request, though.”

Harry smirks. “Anything.”

“I want the party to be both Muggle and wizard. Take me to all the coolest Wizarding bars - if that’s a thing. I’ll give you a list of my favorite pubs, and we’ll make it a trip.”

Harry nods appreciatively. “Deal. Oh, Arthur will be delighted to experience Muggle pubs; thanks for including him, Dudley.”

“I wouldn’t dream of not inviting him, Harry. He’s got to be the kindest man I’ve ever met.” Dudley nods towards the living room. “Shall we?”

Harry agrees, and they quickly join Ania and Hermione, who are in the middle of discussing the best Doctor Who episode. Hermione turns to Harry, changing subject. 

“Are you going to tell them about the Battle, Harry?”

The dark-haired man nods. “I know I said I wouldn’t tell you today, Dudley, but it’s as good a day as any.”

The Muggles watch him intently as he struggles to find his words. 

“We lost many people that night. Remus, Tonks, Snape, even little Colin. Fred, too, and we almost lost Lavender. We took lives, too. We got Bellatrix Lestrange. We got Scabior, and a few more. More importantly, we got Voldemort.”

“Harry,” says Hermione. “ _You_ got Voldemort. Without you, we wouldn’t have won.”

Harry shrugs. “That’s honestly not the one I was most happy to see dead.” 

He looks up at Dudley, who again sees a look lurking in his eyes that gives him chills. “Bellatrix Lestrange killed Sirius, my godfather. And Molly killed her. I’m not going to lie to you,” Harry says, looking between Dudley and Ania, who listens with wide eyes. “It was satisfying. It was freeing, even.”

Hermione continues. “That night, it was chaos. Hogwarts was half destroyed; we managed to rebuild it since, and it’s not good as new, but it’s Hogwarts.”

Harry smiles. “If you want, I can get you a meeting with the Headmistress and a few of the faculty; we know them personally.”

“We went to school with the Herbology teacher, and the Headmistress used to be our Transfiguration professor.”

“...Transfiguration?” asks Ania, bewildered. Hermione smiles. 

“Yeah. It’s the subject where you learn to turn something into something else.”

Harry laughs. “Remember when we had to Transfigure rats into goblets, and Ron had _Scabbers_?”

Hermione snorts. “Must have been a long twelve years for Pettigrew, eh?”

Upon seeing Dudley and Ania’s confused faces, Harry clarifies. “Pettigrew is the man who betrayed my parents. He, Sirius and my Dad were Animagi; they could turn into a certain animal at will. Dad was a stag, Sirius a big, shaggy black dog, and Pettigrew a rat. Fitting,” he finishes in a near snarl.

“Why would they do that?” asks Dudley. 

“For Remus. He was a werewolf, turned when he was four. The werewolf who turned him was killed by Hermione during the battle, actually. He was preying on our classmate Lavender, but we got her medical attention in time. She didn’t get turned, though she will have a giant scar on the side of her neck for the rest of her life.”

“But in her words,” says Hermione with a soft smile, “better to have a scar than to be dead.”

“But you took down… Moldy..tort?” says Ania slowly.

Harry and Hermione burst into laughter. “I will now only refer to him as Moldytort and you can’t stop me,” says Harry. “Yeah, his Killing Curse backfired and killed him. For good this time. And we’ll be free of him forever.”

“Thank you, Harry,” says Dudley. Harry smiles. 

“Well, I should get started on your fireplace, now, shouldn’t I?” says Hermione, getting up from her seat on the couch. Harry follows suit. 

“I’ll help.”

“Thank you both,” says Ania, heading to the kitchen. “I’ll make a cup of tea for you for when you’re done, alright?”

“That’d be splendid, An’, thanks,” says Dudley, pecking his fiancée on the cheek, then whispers to her, “I asked Harry to be my best man. He said yes.”

Ania lets out a squeal of delight. “Oh, Dudley, that’s wonderful! Congratulations!”

***

Harry waves his wand this way and that, whispering incantations as Hermione writes down everything in some kind of report. Then they change sides, finishing their jobs quickly. They stand up from their crouches, stretching their knees; Harry’s pop loudly, and Dudley grimaces sympathetically. 

“I really should exercise more,” says the bespectacled man, grunting. “Ginny keeps telling me I’m losing my form. That’s what I get, marrying a professional Quidditch player, I suppose.”

Dudley laughs. “You could come work out with me at my gym, if you want. Unless it’s too Muggle for you,” he grins, playfully nudging his cousin’s shoulder with his own. Harry guffaws.

“Honestly, that’d be great. I’ll think about it, alright, Big D?”

Dudley grins back. He and Ania offer to walk the wizards to their door, but the two decline. “There’s no need for us to go to the door,” says Hermione. “We can Disapparate from here.”

“Disapparate?” God, the number of times Dudley has repeated something Hermione or Harry said; he’s so embarrassed. He knows there’s nothing he can do about it, but still, he doesn’t like feeling ignorant.

“It’s like… we jump from one place to the next,” says Harry in an attempt to explain. Hermione sighs. 

“Basically, it’s like teleportation,” she clarifies. Ania and Dudley let out twin ‘oh’s of understanding. 

“How does it work?” questions Ania, her big brown eyes glimmering with curiosity.

“Destination, Determination and Deliberation,” say Harry and Hermione together before dissolving into giggles. Harry clears his throat.

“The man who taught us Apparition was a funny bastard. According to him, all one had to do was to be completely determined to reach one's destination, and move without haste, but with deliberation. We eventually got the hang of it, but it was winky for a time.”

“Like that one time Ron got Splinched when we were escaping from the Ministry,” remembers Hermione gravely. “I still get nightmares about it.”

“What’s Splinching?” asks Dudley. It sounds dangerous, and he’d rather know in case it ever happens to his daughter.

“When you Apparate or Disapparate, there’s always a risk of getting hurt. If you don’t do it right, you could leave part of your body behind. When we escaped from the Ministry,” recalls Harry, “we were under stress and some guy grabbed us. Hermione Apparated us away, but Ron got badly injured, and he’s got the scar on his shoulder to prove it. He’s quite proud of his scars, though, so feel free to ask to see it. It has a special look: it’s in the shape of a spiral.”

“We all have scars from the War,” says Hermione, pulling her sleeve up. On her arm is engraved forever the word ‘ _Mudblood_ ’. 

“What does it mean?” whispers Ania. Hermione takes a deep breath.

“It’s a slur meant to insult people born of Muggle parents, like me… and Daisy. We did our best to eradicate the blood-purist mentality, but there will always be a prejudiced sod who thinks he’s better than someone else because of his birth.”

“Who did that to you?” asks Dudley, barely masking his anger and balling up his fists. If anyone dares call his daughter names, they’ll deal with him, champion boxer, and really, really protective father.

“Who else? Bellatrix Lestrange.”

“I’ll have to thank Molly for ridding the world of her,” grunts Dudley. “I reckon she did us all a solid.”


	9. Chapter 9

Dudley barely sleeps that night. He keeps picturing all the ways everything could have gone wrong. 

What if Ania had reacted the same way his parents did when confronted to magic? What if she’d left him and Daisy?

What if?

What if Harry hadn’t been such a decent man? What if he’d laughed in Dudley’s face, said ‘your problem’ and shut the window on him? What if the Weasleys hadn’t been so forgiving of him? 

What if?

Before he knows it, it’s morning already. Ania sleeps soundly, a smile on her face as she dreams of wonderful things. Or at least Dudley hopes. 

He goes and checks on his daughter; she too sleeps like a log. Nothing could wake her or Ania except maybe - _maybe_ \- a nuclear bomb.

So Dudley silently walks to the kitchen, stifling a yawn. It’s only six a.m. on a Sunday morning, and he’s almost wide awake.

There isn’t much for him to do just yet, so he sits at the small kitchen table and thinks. He begins to imagine his, Ania’s and Daisy’s future.

The money Dudley makes as well as his savings, along with Ania’s, would allow them to buy a house without needing a loan from the bank. They could have a small house with a garden, a dog… maybe a second or a third child? Who knows? 

They could even move to the countryside, buy a house out there with an even bigger garden - maybe a field in which they could have a horse for Daisy to learn to ride on, three dogs maybe? He knows Daisy wants a dog, and Ania as well, but their small flat would be torture for the poor animal. And he knows he should talk to Ania about this, but he isn’t ready just yet: he would really like to have more children. He grew up as an only child - even though Harry was around; they never were brothers, which Dudley deplores. But he doesn’t want Daisy to grow up like he did; he’d rather she grew up like the Weasleys, enough siblings to have a blast with at any given time. 

He starts to imagine his wedding. Any dress Ania wears would look amazing on her, so he doesn’t need to imagine that part. He deplores the fact that her parents passed before he met them, and that she has no siblings either, no cousins, no aunts or uncles. She has no family, and as far as Dudley’s concerned, neither has he, apart from Harry now. 

Harry, and by extension, the Weasleys. He’s glad they’re in his life, as well as Ania’s and Daisy’s. If Petunia and Vernon decide to stay out of his daughter’s life, at least the little girl will have surrogate grandparents in Molly and Arthur. And Dudley couldn’t dream of better grandparents. His parents don’t come near Molly and Arthur in that area.

He’s glad Harry will be his best man. Hopefully, Ania will pick her maid of honor soon. Like him, she doesn’t have many friends. They have Dudley’s employees at his small company, but they’re hardly the type to come round for dinner, let alone to their wedding. 

He already knows that Daisy will be their flower girl. Maybe one of Harry’s boys could be ring bearer? Dudley leans towards James, as the boy is older and more responsible than his brother, who is still but a toddler. Maybe Ron’s daughter, Rose, could be one of Ania’s bridesmaids? 

He goes on and on, imagining his future wedding; the day he’ll one day call the best day of his life apart from Daisy’s birth.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait, y'all. It's been a while, but! Here is the next chapter! Hope you enjoy!

As the morning drags on, Dudley finds himself imagining his wedding with his parents present - or, at least, with Petunia present. He wonders if she'd walk him down the aisle; if she'd be proud of his accomplishments. 

A small part of him longs for her approval - after all, what child doesn't desire parental validation? Not that it truly matters, he muses as he sits at the kitchen table, but he'd like for her and Ania to meet; and if all goes well, for Daisy to meet her grandmother. If the meeting goes awry, Daisy is only three: chances are she won't even remember it.

Dudley bites his lip. He doesn't want his father around Daisy; he's afraid the prejudiced toad might say disparaging words to or about his beautiful Daisy, and Dudley can't have that. 

Maybe, if Dudley decides to get back in touch with his parents, it would be best to limit contact to exclusively Petunia. 

The more he thinks about it, the more Dudley finds himself longing for his mother's voice. 

He glances at the clock above the stove: nine a.m. She could already be awake.

A thought worms itself to the front of his mind: perhaps he could ring the landline at Privet Drive, on the off chance they haven't moved in six years? He knows that after Harry saved their lives by sending them away until the War was over, they moved back; after all, he moved back with them. But when Dudley and Vernon had their terrible row six years ago, Dudley had moved out to create Dudley Reparations. Since then, he'd had no contact with his parents whatsoever.

Dudley's not quite sure how, but he's not in the kitchen anymore: he's standing in front of the phone in the hallway, his old landline number on the tip of his fingers. It's a long shot, but hey, you don't get anything by not trying. 

"Oh, what the hell," he mutters, picking up the receiver and dialling his parents' number on the plastic buttons. He makes his way to the living room, flopping down onto the couch, tucking one leg under the other as he listens to the dial tone beeping loudly in his ear. 

After a few moments, right when Dudley is about to give up and hang up due to cold feet, someone on the other end picks up.

"Hello?" comes Petunia's voice, tinny and robotic, through the plastic machine. Dudley is speechless. It's the first time in six years that he hears his mother's voice, and he can barely muster up the courage to form a word, let alone a sentence.

"Hello?" repeats the woman, her tone tinged with annoyance. "If this is another prank call, I swear-"

Dudley blinks himself back to reality. "No, wait, it-"

Petunia gasps on the other end of the line. Dudley can almost picture her hand flying up to her mouth in shock, her eyes widening.

"Hey, mum."


End file.
